On bears, and the various ways to tame them
by Violetta Jones
Summary: Zoro has never trusted Robin, and she decided to do something about it. However, she didn't expect this... Companion fic to "On mind changing, and its consequences". Rated M for mature themes and strong language.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's notes :_

_Thanks for your wonderful comments on my previous fic! I really appreciate it. :3_

_Please R&R! Please remember that English still isn't my first language, though I'm trying to improve my skills._

_This fic should have 3 or 4 chapters when it's done._

_I enjoyed writing about Robin and Zoro a lot, and I hope they're not too OOC._

_I don't own these characters, they're Oda's._

_This takes place between Skypiea and Water Seven.  
_

_Enjoy~!_

* * *

Nico Robin closed her book, put it on the table, and stretched on her chair. She was in the small tangerine orchard, at the ship's back, enjoying a sunny afternoon. They were leaving the vicinity of an autumn island, and the weather was gradually getting warmer. The sky was an endless patch of blue among the trees, above her head. An azure drape over a grove, in the middle of the ocean.

It felt safe.

Nami was a few feet away from her, on a deckchair, sunbathing lazily in the sun. Aside from the sound of the waves and the occasional creaking of the ship, she could hear Luffy, Usopp and Chopper's voices ; she didn't know what they had come up with this time, but they sure seemed like they were having a good time. From the open hatch in the cabin's wall, she could hear Sanji whistling, while moving around the kitchen.

Robin smiled. This atmosphere was so peaceful, relaxing, and so different from everything she had known before that she sometimes wondered if all this was real.

Life had never been easy on her, and even thought the years spent with Baroque Works were certainly not the worse she had to experience, it lacked the playful friendliness she had found within the sundry crew who had accepted her on board.

Most of the time, she felt like she had belonged with them for years.

As somewhat faint sound caught her attention, she turned to this new noise's origin. Roronoa Zoro was sitting, his back resting on the ship's railing, and was obviously deep asleep. His head was leaning down on his chest, his mouth slightly open, and he was snoring faintly. Robin could see he had a few wild spikes in his hair, on the back, where his head had been resting on the wooden planks behind him, when he first sat there. He often looked funny when he woke up after a nap. Sleepy-eyed, still fuzzy, drowsy, not really back from where his slumber had taken him.

Robin chuckled. Zoro was a collected, focused mind, never losing track of his purpose. He was grouchy most of the time, his occasional smiles were mostly sarcastic sneers, and she thought he took life way too seriously in general. But when he was asleep – which he usually did in sight of anyone, even complete strangers, with what almost looked like innocence and complete trust that nothing would harm him, he let the mask down.

Robin thought he looked most endearing when he was asleep.

She smiled wistfully.

She had successfully earned her other nakamas' trust, first by reading their various personalities and skillfully coaxing them into letting her join the crew – truth be told, she wasn't above a little bribery when needed, and she certainly had needed that in order to survive on the seas for the past twenty years. Then, she had gradually proven she was worth their trust.

And they now trusted her entirely. All of them, except one.

She could feel, from her first day on board, that he would be the hardest to tame. After all this time, Zoro was still suspicious.

Luffy had accepted her right away. He was inherently generous, would trust about anybody, unless they hurt someone he cared about, and was prone to grant forgiveness in the same fashion he did everything else : without much thinking.

Sanji had accepted her closely behind his captain. She chuckled. Sanji was such a darling. She wasn't used to being lavished with attention, and his behavior was a nice change, even though he would overdo it on a regular basis.

The others had all learned to trust her after a while. Chopper was a bit shy, and Usopp was scared at first, but she knew they'd forget about it if she was nice to them. Nami wasn't much harder – Robin knew these jewels, snatched from Crocodile after his demise, would come in handy, somehow.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the afternoon sunlight on her face.

Which left her with Zoro, a single stain on the immaculate cloth decorating her new-found home's dinner table. And it bothered her tremendously.

She was good at reading people, and she had soon noticed that the grouchy exterior was only some kind of hard, deceiving polish. Would one scratch it to check what was hidden behind the cover, they'd find a deeply caring nature. He'd never admit it – the man was proud, indeed – but she had seen how nice he was to Chopper, who was the youngest on board, as well as the most sensitive. So, Zoro was fond of kids, and even had a soft spot for them. Also, he was very kind to his crew-mates – covering it all with grumpy retorts. He didn't laugh often, but she had seen him smile at the silly stories Usopp would utter when he thought nobody was looking. He would always follow Luffy on his whims, even if they were unreasonable – which they were. Often. Or actually, most of the time. He would bear patiently with Nami's fits, even though he usually complained about it. And of course, he'd never waste an occasion to make fun of the cook, but it seemed more of an affectionate behavior to Robin. Like some kind of weird, twisted, yet fond attention. She smiled, wondering if any of these two even realized that this was their way to show the other that they cared about him. Not that they would admit it to anyone, anyway.

He could even be nice to her on occasions. He'd listen to her when she talked about history or archeology – all grunts and snorts, but still listening, and even asking for details. Moreover, he had stood up for her when Enel had attacked her. She was badly hurt by the lightning power, back then, but she wasn't unconscious yet when he caught her, before she could fall down, and growled at Enel for attacking a mere woman. Not that she was that vulnerable, but she had really been in danger back then.

She knew Zoro couldn't care less if she was a man, or even a penguin, for that matter. Zoro never underestimated her, but he was nice, just like that. He couldn't help it, and would never leave a vulnerable person without trying to protect them, even if he didn't trust them. He was almost worse than Luffy, in that regard.

She had thought that, maybe, after what had happened in Skypiea, he'd soften a bit in that regard. But she was wrong about that – and she wasn't used to being wrong. After all this time, even though she hadn't shown any sign of ill will, and actually did her best to prove she didn't have any, Zoro was still wary of her.

Actually, it wasn't as if nothing had changed. Before the whole Skypiea business, Zoro would always keep an eye on her. She could feel his gaze upon her once in a while, and when it happened, she generally turned to him and smiled. She wanted him to know that she was aware of what he was doing, and that it didn't disturb her the least. It wasn't out of spite that she did it, no, but she liked having the upper-hand, especially when it came to handsome young men. And when she started understanding what the wary, gruff demeanor was hiding, she started enjoying the teasing a little bit too much. Before she knew it, it had all started to get out of hand – and somewhat naughty. Zoro was a challenge, and she loved challenges, especially when they were that good-looking.

Gradually, his behavior had changed. He first started looking at her more often, when she had thought this habit would disappear after some time. And he looked even more wary of her than before, which she thought was only natural, but was still a bit disappointed with. She had done her best to prove him she deserved his respect, if not his trust, but the teasing might have ruined it all, and she was to blame for that. She sighed.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eyes when she noticed he was stirring in his sleep. He soon yawned, stretched, and opened a sleepy eye, which fell on her right away. When he noticed she was looking at him, she could almost hear him snort from afar. He looked so much like a grumpy bear who had been awakened in the middle of a long winter hibernation that she couldn't suppress a slight chuckle. When he saw that she was laughing at him, he frowned and crossed his arms on his chest.

"Nami-saaaan, Robin-chaaaan, I made some snacks, and they're made with the special secret love ingredient!" Sanji, the usual cigarette stuck in a corner of his mouth, was approaching the place where the girls were resting in the sun, a tray covered with small dishes, filled with what looked like ice-cream and fruit salad, on his hand. "Would you like some salade de fruit, Robin-chan?"

Robin turned to the cook with her best smile, which seemed to delight him tremendously.

"Of course, Mr Cook. This attention of yours is more than welcome. You are so nice."

Suddenly feeling an ominous gaze behind her, Robin turned towards its source, and found herself once again peering at Zoro, who was... what was he doing? Robin's eyes widened slightly.

Zoro was staring at Sanji, his jaw pale from clenching his teeth, murder intent in his eyes. This was unusual. He'd usually look at the cook with mild spite, at the most. What had Sanji done to him to incite such a killing look?

She turned back to Sanji, apparently unaware of the threat a few feet behind him. His face beaming, bowing excessively, the cook was putting a dish in front of her, on the table.

"It's my pleasure, Mademoiselle." He spoke softly.

Back to looking at Zoro, she witnessed him clench his fists, jump on his feet, and walk – his pace so fast he was almost running – towards the oblivious cook, now turning to Nami and asking her if she would like to taste his love in a ramekin.

"Oi, ero-cook."

Sanji wasn't startled – maybe he wasn't that oblivious after all – and turned slowly to the swordsman.

"What is it, stupid marimo?"

Zoro, his fists clenched at his sides, opened his mouth, but closed it before even saying a word, and finally let out a single short grunt. Sanji, not unsettled, raised a curly eyebrow. "What's wrong with you? If you have something to say, just spit it out, and stop wasting my time." He sneered. "Also, stop growling like that. It makes the whipped cream turn sour."

Zoro was fuming now, but he still wasn't answering, and that was very unusual. He was never speechless when it came to his fights with the cook. But now, he seemed to be struggling to find the proper words to use, and was obviously failing. He even was slightly gasping from what seemed to be nervous tension. That's when Robin noticed a faint red hue steadily taking hold of his cheekbones. She could barely trust her own eyes.

Zoro was blushing.

Sanji smiled wider. "Eh, what's the matter, dumb-ass? Don't tell me... no need to be bashful about it. Just come get some."

Obviously, he was referring to his afternoon snacks, but he way he said that, with a low, seductive voice, definitely had a sexual undertone – then again, that kind of teasing towards the swordsman was to be expected. However, it seemed to deeply unsettle Zoro, who was now pursing his lips, and blushing furiously.

"You...!" He spat out with difficulty at Sanji.

He suddenly started for the front of the ship, and left them, aghast.

"Huh... what does that mean?" Sanji turned to Nami and Robin. "Any idea?"

Nami looked dumbfounded. "That's the first time I see him acting like that."

They both turned to Robin, who shrugged absentmindedly, still smiling. Her mind was running fast, reminiscing what she had just witnessed, and adding two and two.

Zoro was looking at her often. Zoro was aggravated by what he saw when looking at her. Zoro had tried protecting her from Enel despite his mistrust. Zoro got upset when Sanji was giving her attention. Zoro was fuming when she paid compliments to the cook. And when the latter had innocently told him to "come get some" while she was around, he had nearly thrown a fit.

Zoro had been _blushing_. Her heart almost jumped at the memory.

She had never seen him getting this upset over Sanji talking to anyone, not even Nami, and his attentions towards her were even more flamboyant than towards Robin herself. Was that... jealousy? Was it possible that, after all this time, this reaction was the direct consequence of her actions?

Robin suddenly burst into a frantic laughter, to Sanji and Nami's surprise, since it was so unusual for her to be laughing out loud.

"Haha, Robin-chan, you're right! This _is_ funny." Sanji was laughing as well now, and Nami soon joined them.

But Robin wasn't laughing at Zoro. She was laughing at herself, somewhat nervously, now that she realized she might have succeeded far more efficiently than she expected.

She had only wanted to fit. Zoro was resisting her, so she had settled on winning him over. Then, she had started to find this teasing game amusing – even an archeologist intent on learning about the true history, feeding her brain intellectual delicacies only, needed the occasional distraction. She had become accustomed to having his attention, and even got to find it strangely comforting. However, she had never thought that he, who was almost ten years younger than she was, could even get anywhere close to feeling that way about her.

She didn't know what to make of it all, yet. She rubbed her forehead with a finger.

"Robin-chan, are you feeling unwell?" She could hear Sanji's concern.

She turned to the cook, now merely chuckling. She could see Nami in his back, eying her with a suspicious look on her face. Uh-oh.

She took a big breath, and sighed.

"To be honest, I have a slight headache now. I'm not used to laughing like that." She smiled. 'I think I'm gonna lie down for a bit."

"As you wish, Robin-chan! If you need anything, just ask."

She smiled at the cook, stood up, and went to the room she shared with Nami. She laid on her bed.

_There, silly girl, you've really done it this time_, she thought, sighing. She had to be honest with herself, now that things had gotten out of control. She did like him. He was nice. He was handsome. He was also very young. And above everything else, he probably hated her for all the teasing she subjected him to. Yet, his earlier behavior was most likely due to jealousy, because she was giving attention to another equally handsome male, whom he felt was his rival in several domains. Indeed, jealousy, and inner conflict. If he was attracted to her, but still felt suspicious – which he did, definitely – he'd flush and stutter and... Yes, she could totally picture him running away from the source of his torment, unable to come up with a solution.

So, how did she think he felt about her? Lust? Most likely. She was confident enough that her looks could earn herself suitors, or at least, they had in the past. It wouldn't be the first time a man would make passes at her. However, she wasn't conceited enough to think Zoro felt more than sexual attraction towards her, at this point. Especially with all the mistrust and former enemy issue.

Though, she thought, in Zoro's case, jealousy wouldn't suddenly sprout out from lust. Then, maybe he did like her a bit. It would explain the jealousy, and even more, the inner conflict she'd clearly witnessed today.

The situation was complicated. In addition to everything else, Zoro was her nakama, and any attempt to push their relationship further could potentially lead to a big bad mess. She knew she could withstand a attempted romance ending badly – she had done it before – or even a purely physical relationship of sorts, but could he? He was so young. She sighed again.

What to do now? Did she want to turn the situation over as soon as possible, so that they wouldn't have to bear with the consequences? Wasn't it too late for that already? Wasn't that last thought only an excuse, so she could just give into this opportunity, and take advantage of it? She hugged her pillow. She had to admit that she didn't really want to stop what she had triggered. She was already having so much fun, and she thought this would potentially lead to interesting moments.

She chuckled. She had just had a really, really naughty idea.


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's notes :_

_Many thanks to Dremmeng. Without him, I wouldn't have been able to post this._

_Anyways, this is the second chapter. I'm still looking for constructive criticism, so please, don't refrain._

_These characters are still not mine._

_Enjoy~!_

* * *

Roronoa Zoro was meditating, sitting against a wall on the front deck. Or rather, to be honest, he was trying to. It seemed that lately, he couldn't stop thinking about some suspicious dark haired woman whenever he let his mind wander.

This felt wrong in all possible ways.

At first, when Luffy decided that it was alright to let Nico Robin join the crew, and after she quickly bamboozled the others, Zoro had been suspicious. He had decided that he'd keep an eye on her. She was manipulating them into letting her on board. He trusted Luffy, who was his captain after all, but he was his first man, and his job was to watch the captain's back. He knew the others could be very immature, and deep down, on an unconscious level, he'd always feel just like they were all his younger siblings. Wait, scrap that – he'd never think about the shitty cook as family. Still, he felt like watching over them – including the cook – was his duty.

So, he had stood watch. And, as that damn woman had eyes and brains, and knew how to make use of them, she had made sure he would know that she was aware of that. These little smiles of hers were just another way to scoff at him. He knew what they meant : I know what you're doing, you know that I know, we both know it's useless, and that you can't do anything against it.

Well, fuck her. It didn't matter. He had gradually learned to compromise with this strange arrangement since she had joined them. The woman was always composed, smiling most of the time, even in stressful situations. She was barely ever surprised by anything, and always kind and respectful to everyone on board. As long as he kept watch, and as long as she didn't try anything threatening, they were all good.

But of course, that was before they got to Skypiea and fought Enel.

He'd always known Robin was a skilled assassin, and a merciless one. He knew she was hiding her true nature, and damn, she was ridiculously good at it, for he never succeeded in knowing what her true reasons for joining the crew were. He sometimes wondered where Miss All Sunday, vice-president of Baroque Works, notorious for her perfect assassination skills, where the girl who was chased by marines from the age of eight, the girl who was a threat to the world's peace, was hidden, beneath the unwavering polite smiles.

In the end, he made sure he never forgot that she was fucking dangerous.

Yet, when he had seen her getting struck with lightning, a painful surprised look on her face, before he could realize what he was doing, he was holding her with one arm, preventing her from falling abruptly on the ground.

Nico Robin, her eyes wide and her brows slightly furrowed by pain, a small blood streak coming from a corner of her mouth, was an image he couldn't quite forget. The astonished look on her face made her look somewhat younger, and her body felt surprisingly light and thin against his arm, even though she was taller than he was. Looking down at her face, from such a short distance, he could see that her eyelashes were very black, and very long. She was breathing faintly, her lips slightly open. Her head was resting on his arm, as if it was too heavy for her, and she needed his support.

While he was holding her like that, he had the feeling that she was very vulnerable. And for a short, brief moment, this thought had obliterated all others.

He had shaken his head to clear his thoughts, with the realization that he had tried to protect her, despite his distrust. He then had started being angry at Enel, who was a fucking dumb-ass for attacking a mere woman, and then he felt furious at himself for forgetting that said woman was far from weak to begin with. Yet, as her vulnerability was exposed by the sudden attack against her, something had definitely roused within him, something he couldn't name yet, but was there.

It hadn't lasted for too long, or so he thought. He had quickly recovered from the feeling at first – he had too much on his hand at that moment to let his mind be obscured by such thoughts. But he soon realized he was in trouble.

During the feast celebrating Skypiea's liberation from Enel's grasp, at one point, he had felt shivers running down his spine. He knew someone was watching him, so he stopped drinking and looked around briskly. Soon enough, he found the origin of his concern : Nico Robin, sitting on the bonfire's other side, was watching him, and she was smiling. He had stared at her for a while. What this enigmatic smile held, he couldn't fathom. But she had looked suspiciously content, and he had felt extremely unsettled by this.

Before Skypiea, he'd always thought of her as a potential threat. But from that moment and subsequently, he couldn't look at her without reminding of her bruised face, her long eyelashes brushing her cheeks, and her light weight resting on his arm.

He had suddenly felt like Robin had turned from a threat into a human being, and couldn't forget it. And this had triggered a whole lot of unwanted feelings within him.

What a fucking bad joke.

He had to admit she was a very attractive woman. Certainly not cute like Nami or Vivi, but she had that refined, yet steady, almost masculine aura that the two other girls lacked in his eyes. She was far more appealing to him than these little girls would ever be. And she was certainly hot enough to stir lust within men with much more concentration power than himself.

Simply put, she was his type.

Another thing he could admit without a second thought was that, since he had joined Luffy on his journey, he hadn't had much time to focus on getting laid. It had been several months now, and he felt especially deprived lately. Which might explain why he'd lust after the first woman in sight. Nami was out of question – who would lust after their little sister? Robin, in the other hand, was older, mature, she could defend herself, and he didn't see her as a nakama yet. No unconscious boundaries that were not to be crossed here.

So, yeah. He wanted her. That, he could compromise with, even though he was wary of her, which was also why he hadn't made passes at her despite his urges.

But that was becoming a real problem. He had tried jerking off while taking a bath – the only moment of privacy, behind a locked door, aboard the ship, aside from the occasional night watch. He used to masturbate to memories of past lovers, vague fantasies that didn't haunt him much, for they were never important in his life, merely passers-by. He was very careful not to think of Robin at these times, not to think of how slender her legs were, how much he'd like to grab that nice looking ass with his hands, shove his dick inside her, and fuck her with almost desperate need.

However, more than once, as he was just done releasing all the tense, steamy frustration from his body, as satisfaction and relief were washing over him, he found himself bewildered as fleeting images of her – her lilac eyes, fine hands, the way she smiled, nothing overly sensual, surprisingly – were flashing before his closed eyes, making his heart leap in a frightening yet thrilling way. He had known it meant something was happening deep down, on an unconscious level, but he chose to discard it. It would only cause him trouble to harbor such thoughts.

He tried breathing deeply, a vain attempt to keep his brain working properly. Reminiscing about this wasn't good.

His erratic mind flow and occasional unwanted feelings were the very proof that masturbation wasn't nearly enough to relieve his mind – and his stupidly excitable body – from that lust he felt for her. It was irritating, and it disturbed him enough to prevent him from meditating. Heck, it was even enough to disturb his training, and he couldn't leave it at that.

Something had to be done.

He could only think about one thing to finally get rid of these annoying, distracting desires, but he wasn't too enthusiastic about it. How would Robin react if he were to make passes at her? Maybe she'd kill him right away – at least he'd get rid of this unpleasant feeling. She'd most likely turn him down, and probably laugh at him. Oh shit. He didn't want to rouse her scorn more than it already was.

And he didn't even want to start thinking of what would happen if she obliged.

Such thoughts were definitely dangerous. She was still a threat to be watched out for, which meant sleeping with her would a very, very bad idea.

He growled, scratched his head as if to clear his thoughts, and opened his eyes. Before he could think about it, almost by reflex, he started searching for the familiar dark figure he knew wouldn't be far – he had chosen this meditation spot specifically to be able to keep an eye on her. And there she was, standing at the ship's prow, her arms resting on the railing, seemingly watching the sunset.

He gulped with difficulty.

The sight was dazzling. Her slick hair was gently toyed with by the light breeze, looking almost golden in the fading sunlight. She was turning her back to him – which was unusual – so he couldn't make out her face, but her figure seemed ablaze. He could see perfectly how thin her shoulders were, as well as her well-defined waist and slender legs.

Unconscious images yet again started to flash incoherently before his eyes, as if compensating what he couldn't see from there. Her eyes, more of a subdued lilac, rather than blue. The way they would steadily scrutinize the pages when she was deeply into her readings. Her mouth, small, with plump, well-defined lips, and her chin, narrow and pointed – her sharp, yet delicate features. And her hair... a black, velvety curtain overshadowing her face, as she was leaning over a book. The way she'd stick unwanted hair locks behind her ear to prevent them from obscuring her vision then – she always did that when she was reading.

He clenched his teeth. _That_ was happening again!

He shook his head and looked at her. Oh, crap, she was staring at him. Oh fucking crap, why was she coming his way? He barely registered that she wasn't smiling, and that her usual scorn was absent from her face, this time. The wind was a bit stronger now, sending her skirt fluttering around her long legs, and her hair flying wildly around her face. He didn't dare look, though, and stared at her shoes until she stopped, a few feet from him, instead.

"Can I help you with something, Mr Swordsman? You seem agitated."

He felt his cheeks starting to blush – what the fuck, not _again_! Fortunately, the sunset light was strong and red enough to hide this weakness of his. He gulped with difficulty, and slowly started to raise his eyes up to her face.

Little did he know that they would never reach it.

They first started going up her thin ankles, then her long, slender, attractive tanned legs. Such legs shouldn't be allowed, for fuck's sake! As his eyes went further up, he soon gasped with the realization that, from his sitting spot, he could enjoy a tremendously scandalous view – to put it plainly, he could see everything that was usually hidden beneath her ridiculously short miniskirt. His pants suddenly felt a bit tight in the crotch area, and a wave of embarrassed panic washed over him. Didn't she notice he could see it all? Was she doing this on purpose?

He jumped on his feet hastily, blushing furiously, discarding all thoughts of a sexual nature – more like trying to, and, feeling like an utter idiot, grunted at her.

"Oi, what's the meaning of this?"

She was smiling now, but something was different. Her lips were slightly parted, and there was something about her eyes that he couldn't fathom. Her eyes seemed darker than usual, for she had the blazing sunset in her back, but there was definitely something new here. As this thought was leaving his mind, he brutally realized that her eyes were smiling as well as her mouth. Shit, this wasn't one of her usual polite, or even teasing smiles.

This was the real thing. Nico Robin was giving him, the ever suspicious crew member, of all people, a genuine, sincere smile. He felt his heart leap in his chest, and thought to himself, still panicking deep down, that she was very pretty when she smiled like that. Wait, scrap that – she was beautiful. His blood started boiling in his veins. He felt hot and cold at the same time, and strangely exhilarated. He was also deadly scared, slightly shaking, and breathing with difficulty, waiting for her to make her move, and ready to defend his life dearly.

She stayed silent for a while, then replied. "Whatever you wanna make out of it." His blood froze inside his veins at her words.

Zoro, unable to understand what she implied with these words, almost scared enough to be shitting bricks, did the only thing he could think about at this very moment.

He ran away.

* * *

Fuck! Fuck-fuck-fuck that damn witch... FUCK!

He rushed for the bathroom, opened the cold water and jumped into the shower without even removing his clothes. It helped a bit at first, the freezing water rapidly extinguishing any trace of lust from every corner of his stupid, easily excited body. He let out a deep breath, but as soon as he started feeling relieved, her face flashed before his eyes, ablaze in the sunset, gently smiling, and his heart started racing again.

This... this couldn't be happening! Yes she was hot as hell, yes he wanted to fuck her, even though she was dangerous – maybe _because_ she was, actually. That must be why he was feeling painfully aroused right now, why he had been feeling that way for the past few weeks. It wasn't the first time it happened to him. Even he needed the occasional quick fuck once in a while. And if no obliging woman was available at the time, he'd simply deal with it with Miss Right Hand's help.

However, this time, it had proven useless, and what just happened now made him realize that it was much more complicated than his usual, simple sex urges. Even though it pained him to admit it, in the end, all facts considered, she _was_ his nakama. Whether he wanted it or not, the other crew members had already accepted her as a nakama, and so he had no other choice but to accept her as well, even though he was wary of her, because the others trusted him. And being nakamas meant that he owed her respect.

He slammed his fist on the shower's walls, and rested his forehead on the cold tiles.

That was it. He had respect for her. She was his nakama, he respected her and even was – for fuck's sake! – he was, somehow, fond of her. He had let his guard down for a fucking second and now had damn feelings for the fucking woman who was fucking with his mind and overthrowing his fucked-up senses nowadays.

He now noticed how lately, whenever he started watching her, waiting for any sign of treachery, or even thinking about her, his mind would start wandering until he totally lost it and ended up daydreaming about Robin. _Daydreaming_, like some fucking maiden! And he knew deep down that daydreaming had nothing to do with lust. If asked objectively, he'd say it had to do with fondness, affection, or love.

Love, huh. It couldn't be. Definitely not.

Yeah – no fucking way.

It might not be love – he flinched when he distinctly heard a small, insidious voice in the back of his mind, whispering tremendously frightening words – _not yet_ – but it was definitely not just lust either.

He couldn't believe this was really happening. He could deal with lust, in a way or another, but not with some unreasonable, unnamed, unwanted feeling.

Now he realized the complexity of his feelings for her, he also knew it would be a tremendously bad idea to give into his urges. Letting his guard down in such a fashion would expose himself to much, much worse than a physical threat – though the latter wasn't to be excluded.

He turned around and let himself slide to the floor, his back against the tiled walls. He raised his arms in front of his tightly shut eyes and stopped moving.

This couldn't be happening.

He nearly jumped when the door suddenly opened. Damn, he had forgotten to lock it.

Usopp entered the room, a towel on his shoulder, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Zoro, sitting in the shower, still running, with all his clothes on.

"Huh... Zoro? What are you doing?"

The latter grunted, turned the water off, and started getting out of the shower.

"Trying a new kind of meditation. Got a problem with that?" He sounded a bit more aggressive than he intended to, but he didn't care. Usopp would survive.

"Hmm... no." He was eying the swordsman suspiciously now. "Are you sure everything is alright?" He got closer. His eyes went down to Zoro's feet then back up to his face. "And maybe you'd better get dry clothes before you catch a cold." He paused. "Actually, your face is a bit red. You sure you're ok?"

"Yeah... dunno. I think I am." Zoro sighed and scratched his head. "Maybe you're right. I'll ask Chopper."

They went silent for a while, then Usopp cleared his throat.

"What?"

"You see, I came here to take a bath."

"Oh."

Zoro didn't move. Raising an eyebrow, Usopp finally shrugged, hanged his towel on the nearest wall, and started unfastening his overalls.

Zoro flinched. "Oi, what are you doing?"

"As you can see, I'm getting naked. I'm not like you, I prefer taking baths without anything on, thanks you for your concern."

Oh, great, Zoro thought, as if I needed more nakedness in my mind right now. Even Usopp's. Feeling his face flushing again from embarrassment, he left the room hurriedly.


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's notes :_

_Thanks for your wonderful comments! I know Zoro's a bit OOC, but... writing him as a tsundere was too good to resist. You'll see what I mean in the next chapter, which I might post in the next few days. And honestly, I always thought the generally collected demeanor hides more than he'd like to admit. Still, I went a little overboard. And I liked it. ;D_

_Also, naughty!Robin. Really. I had so much fun with this chapter. x3_

_And Top the World, I like Usopp too. He's a clever guy and he doesn't get nearly enough fun in fanfics._

_Enjoy~!_

* * *

Robin was tremendously enjoying herself.

They were all currently having dinner, and by chance, she was sitting right across Zoro tonight. The latter was currently trying to concentrate on his plate, and miserably failing. He couldn't help but glance at her every once in a while, and he generally choked either on his food or drink when every time, he realized she was eying him while eating in a very suggestive fashion. Tonight's main dish was a cheese fondue.

When the cook had announced dinner's menu, she had known it would be perfect. He had set up several big saucepans under witch small burners laid, and the cheese was already melting when they gathered around the table. There were several large dishes with bits of various cold meat and vegetables to pick from, then they were to dip them in the molten cheese. Perfect, indeed.

Even though she had been a little concerned about this whole affair at first, she now did her best to take advantage of it. She had finally decided that she wouldn't mind having some company on cold night watches.

After their little chat, a few days ago, he had started avoiding her, forgetting that there was no way he would succeed on such a small boat. Then, she had been the one ensuring she was always near, so that her sight would always remind him of his inner conflict. She had made sure he was around every time she paid compliments to Sanji or smiled at him.

She had then taken the teasing a step further, and she'd not-so-subtly provoke him once in a while. The most pleasant times were during meals. She had to be careful and watch what she said, because she didn't want the others to notice, but she would sometimes let a few words with dual meaning slip out. Or she played with her food, which, curiously, was the most effective.

Luffy was already busy chomping on everything on sight, at the far end of the table. Everyone was obliviously enjoying their meal. Sanji, who had just finished serving, approached her with an attentive look on his face.

"Robin-chan, are you enjoying the fondue?"

She smiled. "Yes, Mr Cook, this looks delightful." She picked a small cocktail kind of sausage on her fork, then dipped it in the saucepan in front of her, drawing it covered in dripping cheese, and slowly raised it up to her mouth, slightly releasing her tongue to avoid any spilling, and swallowed the whole thing, closing her eyes as if in bliss.

"Mr Cook, this is delicious. It's melting in my mouth."

Sanji, who had witnessed the whole thing, looked absolutely entranced by her words. "I'm not worthy of such compliments, Milady!"

She glanced at the swordsman who, from his chair across the table, had missed nothing of her little show.

He could barely believe that the woman was willing to display such a scandalous attitude in front of their crew-mates, and even more that the latter didn't notice any of it. But that thought was buried deeply, in a corner of his mind that could still work, somehow.

Everything else had gone down the drain when she had slid the dripping, tiny sausage between these luscious lips of hers.

"Zoro." Chopper was looking at the swordsman, looking puzzled. "Your face is all red."

Zoro flinched at these words, and turned to the small reindeer with frowned brows and pursed lips.

"Yeah, because of the shitty cook's burners, this room feels very hot, don't you think?"

"I see what you mean, but even with all my fur, I don't feel that warm."

"Leave the marimo alone, Chopper." Sanji was restocking on meat at the table's end – Luffy had eaten it all already. "I might have accidentally spilled some powdered chilli on his plate earlier, when I inadvertently let the container fall." He smirked at the swordsman. "And he's valiantly trying to suppress an irresistible urge to spit fire while screaming like a girl."

"As if." Zoro grunted. He was angry at the cook, but he felt slightly relieved that his annoying sarcastic remarks gave him an exit door from this embarrassing conversation.

Disappointed – and slightly surprised – at the swordsman's lack of proper answer, Sanji snorted and went to the counter to bring the empty plates back. Zoro grunted.

When they were done with the fondue – no meat was left – Sanji smiled brightly at his crew-mates, and announced : "Time for dessert! Since the main dish was a bit on the heavy side despite the warm weather, I prepared something light : popsicles!"

He started handing out the treats, serving Nami first in an extravagant manner, then went to Robin. Kneeling in front of her chair, he handed the popsicle as if it was a rose bouquet. "Your dessert, Princess."

She grabbed it, taking advantage of his silly behavior to slightly brush his hand, as if by accident, and smiled. "Thank you, Mr cook."

Ignoring him, who was now rolling on the floor, cradling his hand against his cheek, squealing softly in delight - "Meeellorine, our hands touched, is it fate?" – she glanced at Zoro, who had missed nothing of it. He was looking tense, his fists, resting on the table, unconsciously clenching and relaxing, almost spasmodically. She repressed a smile. She then started eating the pospicle slowly, taking her time while lazily sliding her tongue from the base to the tip, then deliberately looking at him while she was inserting the dripping thing into her mouth. By then, his face had flushed red, and he was now shivering slightly despite the warm atmosphere in the lounge.

He suddenly raised from his chair, attracting the others' attention, and proceeded to the door.

"Oi, marimo, don't you want a dessert?" Sanji asked.

Zoro flinched, but still went on until he reached the door. As he was about to exit the room, he finally mumbled : "Sorry, I'm not too fond of sweets." He then left.

Everyone was taken aback. The room was silent for a moment, and Nami was the first to break the silence.

"Did he just... apology? _To Sanji_?"

Everyone suddenly started talking at the same time.

"What the hell is wrong with the shitty marimo..."

"Maybe he's sick?"

"Or in a really bad mood? He's even scarier than usual..."

"You're right, Usopp, that's definitely unusual..."

"Oi, Sanji, can I eat Zoro's share?"

Robin was the only one being silent. She was definitely enjoying herself. His reactions were getting more intense with each passing day, and she was wondering how long he would withstand the pressure she was pushing onto him.


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's notes :_

_Zoro's such a tsundere. Yeah, really. :3_

_Anyway, here's the final chapter, with smut, courtesy of yours truly. Though, I don't know if I'm happy with the result yet, so this fic might get a few more revisions._

_Please R&R!_

_Enjoy~!_

* * *

This had to stop.

Once again, the afternoon was warm. The sun was shining brightly and the sky was devoid of clouds, but Zoro, sitting at the ship's back, out of sight of his current nemesis – he started thinking recently that Mihawk was a joke compared to that shrewd, indecent woman who was turning his days into a living hell – couldn't care less.

That fucking witch! Of course, she had noticed that he was troubled, and she'd soon understood that he was conflicted about her. That he fucking wanted her – and he was absolutely sure she knew that he wouldn't act on it as well. And, as surely as Luffy would engulf a whole meat banquet by himself, as surely as Sanji would turn into an instant doormat in front of a pretty girl, as surely as Nami would immediately jump into a money-filled swimming pool, she had started playing on this weakness of his. All his training, all his meditation had disintegrated, useless in front of that damn woman, who was slowly weaving her web around his body, as well as his mind.

He was now prey to the beast he'd started out watching out for. Fortunately, she didn't know about the complexity of his feelings. _Yet_.

He scratched his head frantically with both hands. He had tried reflecting on the current situation, but couldn't come up with a satisfactory solution to this problem. He didn't even know what she was thinking. The simple thought that she might be interested in him, just like he was in her, was so terrifying that he had discarded it quickly, choosing to believe that she was merely toying with him, as a retaliation for his mistrust. Anyway, he viewed her as even more of a threat than before this whole thing had started. He was now adamant that giving into his urges would be, to put it plainly and aside from giving an opening to potential danger, playing along with her rules, giving her the upper hand, and a definite victory.

And he wouldn't do that. Ever.

Still, things were going overboard, _he_ was going overboard, and he knew something had to be done. He just needed to find what exactly he had to do to make it stop.

He sighed deeply, trying to ease the towering frustration he had been feeling for the past few days, and decided he'd better take a nap instead of ruminating over this stupid affair. He hadn't been able to get much sleep lately. As soon as he closed his eyes, images of Robin flashed in his mind, and he generally ended up so fucking hard that he had very few options left : taking a cold shower, which would wake up his nakama ; jerking off in the bathroom, and then fainting from exhaustion against the tiled wall to erotic dreams of the worst kind ; or just avoid sleeping altogether. After experiencing the second one twice – he didn't dare waking Nami up in the middle of the night, he wouldn't be able to deal with her wrath since he was as jumpy as a cat in heat – he had decided the last option was his best bet.

And he was now furiously tired, to the point it was dulling his intellectual capacities.

Fuck that woman.

_You wish_. The little voice in the back of his mind was also really starting to irritate the fuck out of him.

He closed his eyes and started breathing deeply, trying to concentrate on something else – swords. Swords were good, he liked them and they were related to his ultimate goal. Swords then.

He started slowly building an image in his mind : a katana, with a pretty blue handle. He didn't have one in that color. He then conjured a blade in his mind. Dark metal. With a very sharp edge. But as he was mentally creating the steel appendage, the sword's handle turned purple, painfully reminding him of a certain pair of lilac eyes. The curved, slender edge overlapped with another kind of curves, his mind summoning another figure, and the mental image shattered.

"Aaah, damn!"

He had shouted out loud, as he raised his shaky hands to clasp each side of his head. The damn witch was stealing his concentration, his sleep, and soon, she'll be stealing his sanity as well.

He raised his head when he heard footsteps approaching, which he recognized right away.

The witch.

He was pretty sure that she had seen his desperate gesture, and maybe even heard him. Gah. Whatever. Her presence was having a sobering effect on him, anyway. He breathed deeply, and raised his head to face her. He could do it. He was sure he could.

He looked at her while she was reaching his sitting spot. Fortunately, she was wearing pants today – tight ones, but he wouldn't accidentally see unwanted things thanks to that. Looking at her face, he noticed once again that mockery was absent from her face – she wasn't smiling. Was it pity he could see in her eyes? So he had sunk that low, heh? Had he even hit rock bottom yet? He grunted.

"Mr Swordsman?" She had spoken softly.

She sounded somewhat hesitant all of a sudden.

"What do you want?" He replied in a muffled, nervous voice.

She was silent for a while, her eyes intent on his face, then chuckled, but he didn't care anymore. He felt really weary, and thought in a semi-daze that she was really very tall.

"You seem to be troubled."

"Yeah, whatever. Leave me alone now. I'm trying to sleep."

"Are you?"

He clenched his teeth, and crossed his arms on his chest.

"What do you not understand? I told you to leave me alone."

She smiled, and the look on her face was almost gentle. If he didn't know better, he would have been fooled.

"I'm afraid I can't do that."

Zoro felt his brows furrowing instinctively, irritation building up inside him.

"What do you mean? You just have to turn around, start walking, and go back from wherever you came from."

"That's not a very nice thing to say." The scorn was back.

He averted his eyes from her and grumbled.

"Especially when I came to thank you."

His eyes jumped back at her. What the hell was she uttering? He stared at her with what he hoped was a blank look.

After a while, she added : "I don't think I ever had the opportunity to do it properly."

He growled, then signed. "What now? Come on, spill the beans! I don't have time for shallow chatter."

She chuckled.

"You protected me."

He flinched. She couldn't be referring to that time... What did she know about it? She possibly couldn't know what he had felt back then, and how much had changed because of that. Yet, his anxiety got worse when she went on.

"You stood up for me when I was vulnerable, when you don't even trust me. I thank you for that."

Zoro was starting to feel the blush spreading on his cheeks. Fuck. Fuck-fuck-fuck. There was no way he could hide it at this time of the day. He stood up, ready to leave at the slightest sign of mockery, crossed his arms again, turned his head towards the sea so he wouldn't have to face her, and grunted.

"In your dreams. I only did it because the gang would be angry with me if I didn't."

He was feeling tired, aggravated by her ridiculous subtlety, and also a bit embarrassed, as his flushed face was evidently pointing out.

He heard a muffled sound, and turned back to her. She was laughing. Not her usual quiet chuckling, no, she was laughing out loud, her hand before her chin, small tears rolling slowly on her cheeks.

She was laughing at him.

What the fuck.

He suddenly felt his blood boiling in his veins. All the anger, frustration, tension from the past few days washed over him like a tidal wave. And since he was very sleep-deprived, his usual self-control was weaker than usual.

Before even realizing what he was doing, he rushed forward to her, seized the hand hiding her mouth, as well as her left shoulder, and pushed her against the wall right behind her. Despite being startled at the sudden outburst, her laughter didn't stop, merely turning into the more usual chuckles he was accustomed to.

"Stop laughing like that, witch!"

And so she did, though not because he ordered her to, gradually, grasping for air as her chuckles died out, until she was silent. Yet, her smile didn't waver. In her eyes, mockery hadn't settled.

"What do you think you're doing here?" He hissed, his anger barely contained. "Do you think you can get on board, twist everyone around your little finger with polite smiles and a fake nice demeanor, and walk in the open, just like that? You think you can do as you wish?"

He paused, trying to catch his breath. He hadn't realized that he was gasping.

"You think you can toy with me like a cat with a mouse, and not bear the consequences? Who the hell do you think I am?"

Crap, he might have said too much now.

She was now staring at him, her smile dying on her lips, her eyes widened by what seemed to be genuine surprise. She didn't even try to resist, even though he was brutally gripping her arm and shoulder. She could have used her devil's fruit power at any time to free herself, but showed no sign of wanting to. Which is probably why he decided to go on.

"Since you've been on this ship, I've been watching you, because I know you're hiding your true intentions. I don't trust you! I've been watching all the time, and I still can't figure you out… But I can't get rid of it now! And it's entirely your fault!"

He stopped, struggling for words that escaped him.

The witch had her pale eyes intent on him, and all trace of surprise had disappeared from her face. Such a pretty color on such a shrewd woman suddenly seemed an extraordinary heresy to him. Her small mouth was slightly open as she was breathing faintly, and he could totally imagine himself crushing his own against these deceitful lips. Pinning her against a wall had been a major feature of his most recent – and scarce – dreams, and finally acting upon it felt so blissful, her lithe yet strong body pressed against his... He realized that he was now feeling furiously horny. Great, as if he needed that in addition to everything else. Whatever. He wouldn't do anything stupid, no matter what, not as he could almost feel gears spinning wildly as her mind was calculating her next move.

Silence stretched between them. After a while, though, she stirred a bit, licked her lips in what he reckoned unwillingly was a very suggestive way, and chuckled again.

"I don't know about that, Mr Swordsman." She paused. "I'd rather think that you did this to yourself, and never needed my help. Or maybe you think trying to push all the blame on me is a proof of maturity?" She then added, her voice so dim he thought for a moment she hadn't said it, until he realized her lips had been moving : "I told you to make it out whatever you wanted to."

What the fuck was that? Even in such the current situation, she still had the nerve to taunt him? And what did she mean anyway? Whatever he wanted to make out of it, huh? So he was the one responsible, according to her? Or...

His heart suddenly jumped in his chest, the ground opening under his feet, and he felt his body freeze, as if turning to stone, at the realization that these very words could be, in their own twisted, convoluted way, taken as some kind of insanely weird confession.

Whatever he wanted to make out of it. Whatever he wanted... Crap. He knew he hadn't misheard. She really did say these words, and had actually said them twice. Was she admitting that, if he were to act on his impossible impulse, that felt so wrong even to him, she wouldn't defend herself? Was she, once again, only fraying his nerves, or was she fucking serious?

He stomped his hand on the wall besides her head, inadvertently closing in on her. When he realized how close her face was, her lips slightly parted, ridiculously appealing, her eyes intent on his own and full of what he reckoned could very well be desire, he felt blood washing over his own face, while at the same time, his pants seemed to tighten around the painful erection he had been trying to suppress for a while now. He knew he was blushing furiously, and her staring was driving him so wild that he had to close his own eyes before committing a gigantic mistake.

His heart was racing dementedly, and his face was so hot he wondered briefly why it hadn't started to sprout flames. He tried breathing slowly, but it wouldn't help regaining his composure. He was failing miserably.

As he reopened his eyes, he realized that he wouldn't be able to resist much further. She was so close now he could make out every lock of hair on her forehead, every single lash around her pale, violet eyes, every crease on her lips, that were almost touching his. He was so fucking aroused by then that he almost feared creaming his fucking pants any moment from now.

And he was infuriated at the relief he now felt, at the thought that he was finally about to give up on avoiding this painfully impossible situation, his failing restraints crumbling to pieces.

And it was her own fault. She had seen this coming, but hadn't stopped with the unreasonable, tantalizing, perpetual teasing. She only deserved what would be happening to her very, very soon.

He growled. "Dammit, woman! You're all I've been able to think for the past few days! This is all your doing!"

She was smiling expectantly now. He could almost touch his resolve as it was melting away in continual heat waves, just like sand slipping through fingers.

"And what will you be doing about it?"

His eyes locked with hers, and, his last barrier now dissolved, slightly shaking from anticipation, nearly gasping as his lips brushed against her own, feeling a faint pressure from a hand on the back of his neck – what hand? he was holding her right arm and he could feel the other on his right hip – he finally kissed her.

He had thought kissing Nico Robin would be a fight for control, just like the prelude to this kiss had been – days and days of continual teasing. Yet, he was surprised when her small, smooth tongue started gliding against his own gently, rousing sweet yet painful fire in every sensitive part of his body with each light graze. Surprised by the unannounced gentleness of her kiss, he suddenly wanted to taste all of her, so he trusted his tongue deeper in her mouth, and gasped slightly when she played along with no sign of resisting. He felt like his pants were about to explode, but it didn't matter anymore. Nothing else mattered, but this thin body against his own, slender arms firmly resting against his back, his neck, nothing but the firm yet soft nudging he could feel as she was pressing her belly against his own, as well as this mouth, which he was finally possessing.

When they parted, he was gasping from arousal. His eyes were still closed from the kiss, and he was trying to regulate his breathing, as well as his emotions. He heard her chuckle softly.

He opened his eyes, and saw she was smiling. No trace of scorn, this smile being the same kind as the one she had granted him during the sunset episode.

"It seems you have come to a conclusion, after all. Are you sure it is satisfactory?" She chuckled again, then sighed. He thought her smile looked a bit sad when she added : "I'm too old for you."

Yeah, he had noticed. But he didn't care. This had been the least of his problem to begin with, and it never mattered. He was feeling strangely exhilarated, light-headed, and above everything else, he wanted her here and now.

"Shut up."

He leaned in to kiss her again, slid his left arm in her back, and started fondling one of her breasts with his other hand, shoving his crotch into hers in the same impulse. She let out a muffled 'hmm' into his mouth when he rubbed his painfully pants-constricted cock against her, and gripped him with more strength than before.

She broke the kiss, panting faintly, and said with an unusually wavering voice : "We have to stop for now, Mr Swordsman."

He was busy kissing her neck and fondling her left breast, and would have none of this bullshit. All restraints gone now, somehow hazy from arousal and exhaustion, he had decided he was gonna fuck her right now, and he didn't care anymore what could happen if anyone were to sneak on them.

He suddenly felt several arms grabbing his legs, and stumbled on the back deck.

She was standing before him, leaning into the wall, still grasping for air, her cheekbones slightly flushed. Seeing her shaken like that was a nice change, Zoro thought, and made her even more desirable.

"Just bear with me for a moment. Go to the front deck through the lounge, and wait for me." She then left hurriedly.

Zoro was taken aback. What was she doing?

Still dementedly horny but slightly sobered, though not nearly enough to remember that this was a _bad_ idea, he got up, shook his head, and as she suggested, entered the lounge by the back door. It was empty at this time of the day, the shitty cook busy elsewhere. Most likely pestering Nami. Whatever.

He went through the room, and opened the front door. Despite what he had thought moments ago, Sanji was on the front deck, near the boat's prow, smoking, his back turned to the other ship's inhabitants. Chopper wasn't far, looking at some large piece of paper with Usopp, while the latter was fumbling with some weird device he had most likely made.

"Ah, Zoro! Come look at what I made with these dials!"

"Later, Usopp. I'm getting booze now."

"Damn you, marimo. How many times did I tell you not to fool around in my kitchen..."

Zoro barely had enough time to see a tan arm sprouting from the floor near Usopp, sneakily sliding inside the pouch he always had at his side, delicately fumbling then getting out with something clutched between two slender fingers. Which they slammed on the ground rather violently.

Chopper and Usopp were engulfed in a sudden smoke screen. Zoro could hear them coughing within the cloud, while Sanji was shouting their names, since he couldn't see what had happened.

While all this was happening, he felt some tugging on his shirt. Another tan arm had appeared on the railing next to him, and was inviting him into the storage room on the lower floor.

That shrewd woman.

While the smoke was still thick enough for him to sneak in without being noticed, he went down the stairs and entered the room quickly, closing the door behind him. It was dark in here, save for the hatch on the right-hand wall, and he couldn't see Robin anywhere. Had she tricked him again? He then felt arms close around his chest from behind and a warm body press against his. She had been waiting behind the door, obviously.

Her right arm went down to his pants and started fondling his cock through the rough fabric, and at that somewhat direct touch, he felt desire getting hold of himself with renewed fire. He turned back to her, pinning her against the wall again, and started kissing her passionately, while the hand was rapidly shoving his haramaki downwards and unfastening his pants, working its way into them and grabbing him before starting to stroke slowly. He had gripped her ass in a hand, while the other reached for her crotch, lingering there while applying a slight pressure with his fingers, brushing fervently on sensual, sensitive areas. He could feel her breathing hard against his mouth.

He raised his hands to her top's straps, and lowered them until the small piece of fabric was scrunched around her waist, and started fondling her breasts. He lowered his head. Zoro had never been much of a boobs person, but he had to admit hers were very nice, round, firm, her skin very soft under his hands. He squeezed a nipple between fingers and started running his tongue in circles around the other. Robin gasped at this touch, her hands gripping his shoulders, while his free hand was fumbling with her pants' to open them. As soon as he was done, he slid fingers against her underwear and started stroking a delicate spot he knew should be extremely sensitive. She shuddered. Her panties were so wet he couldn't believe she hadn't stained her pants along the way. Discarding the small, soft piece of fabric aside with his fingers, stretching it on the side, he started teasing her pussy's lips, sliding deeper with each stroke.

She was so damn fucking wet.

She suddenly grabbed his hands, and whispered softly. "Stop."

Another hand had grabbed his cock, free from his pants, now crumpled around his ankles.

"No way." He replied.

He kicked the restricting piece of clothing out in some corner of the room, lowering himself in order to slide hers down for better access to her delicate parts. When she raised a slender leg to free herself from the last of her pants, he grabbed her ankle, preventing her from resting her foot on the ground, and, now kneeling on the floor, slid his tongue inside her wet, dripping bush. She let out a low, shaky groan while he was sucking on her clit.

He raised up, still holding her leg, now resting on the crook of his arm, and started rubbing his dick against her pussy. He felt like he was about to explode, but he didn't dare letting go yet, because he wasn't nearly done with her.

This was payback for all the teasing, and he wanted to make sure she did pay.

He positioned himself and suddenly rammed himself into her, in a single move, but finally getting to feel her wet, soft, smooth tightness, he had to stop abruptly. He was far closer to going overboard than he had thought, and this single thrust had nearly sent him over the edge.

But she wouldn't have any of this. She seemed to lose control over herself, now that he was inside her, and started moving her hips eagerly, using the wall in her back as support. He was now desperately trying to hold out as long as he could, but he knew it wouldn't be long before he finally came. She was so fucking tight there was not much he could do about it anyway. So, he grabbed her ass, pressing her against the wall, and started meeting her, thrust for thrust, muffling her rash panting against his mouth. Surprisingly soon, he felt her tense and twitch around him, as he could feel his own orgasm building up, inciting him to thrust harder, deeper inside her, almost desperately, and triggering his own release within her.

He rested his head on her shoulder, her legs still around him, trying to catch his breath. This was close enough to being the fucking greatest sex he ever had in his life, though too short to really appreciate, and he was now seeing stars against his closed eyelids. He also couldn't repress a wild feeling of satisfaction, because this had been tremendously enjoyable, but also because he now realized she had wanted him as much as he wanted her, if not even more. He had never witnessed a woman coming so quickly.

And thinking he was the cause for so much arousal was very, very gratifying.

He suddenly felt her lower her legs, then herself to the ground, sliding slowly against the wall, breaking their intimate connection but not releasing her hold around his neck. He crumbled to the floor along her, soon sitting between her spread legs, still embracing her, not wanting to let go either.

His brain was now waking up from his body's aroused trance, and with it, the little voice, telling him that he'd just made the damn biggest stupid thing since he was born. And now he was coming to his senses, he fucking agreed with that annoying bugger. It was too late, what was done couldn't be suppressed either, but what to do now? He wondered if he could go back to his old suspicious self, but found out he didn't want to. He _was _fond of her. He'd been for some time, now. And the intimate moment they had just shared – and were still sharing, entangled in one another – had opened more doors, of the kind that couldn't be closed easily, or without what he reckoned would be distress, on his part, at least. He hoped she was feeling the same.

Yet, he still couldn't trust her entirely. If not for her formidable, confident surrendering in his arms, he'd have followed his core instinct and jumped out of her embrace as soon as coming to his senses.

However, he had to admit that he had just experienced something new, terrible, passionate, and merely thinking of never experiencing it again frightened him. It made him feel lonely. He never had felt lonely before, nor did he ever imagine that, one day, he'd feel that way.

He laughed faintly against her neck.

"Damn you, woman."

She tensed against him. She was now breathing more quietly, and soon, she cleared her throat, before saying : "I'm sorry. Though, I don't regret any of it." Her voice sounded somewhat sad to him. She then added, much to his surprise : "I don't expect you to trust me, after all I've made you endure, and even after what we just did. It wasn't the point anyway. But would you believe me when I say that I'd never hurt any of you?" She stopped, as if struggling with words, which was unusual enough for him to raise his head and look at her face. "You are all dear to me." She paused, averting her eyes from him. "I have no one else."

He realized how much this confession had cost her, and though he knew he couldn't trust her entirely yet, the melancholic, almost desperate loneliness he could feel in her voice shook him. She looked genuinely hurt at the thought that he still wouldn't trust her after all this time. Then again, he was dealing with a manipulative woman, and he had experienced it first-hand.

He cupped her head with his hand, turning her face back towards him so he could look at her, trying to figure out how much he could trust her, since after all, trust wasn't just a matter of black and white. Ultimately, he answered.

"I'll believe that much, for now."

She was silent for a while, then curled her arms around his neck, and pressed herself against him.

This was a truce, and she hadn't expected that much.


End file.
